Chill Daddy-O, I may be a specter
by animevampLlover
Summary: ... but I'm pretty hep. Stress from work and lack of privacy has finally pushed Vlad into moving. How will he fare residing at the old Fenton place? Alt. universe. Female!Danny rating may possibly go up, but it's not certain. Also pompous pep.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors note: I know I really shouldn't be posting a new story but right now I'm sort of suck on how to continue Magic of Love. And honestly this story just begged to be written. Don't worry I am going to finish Magic of Love. It's just going to be a while. So for now, I hope you enjoy Chill Daddy-O.**

Chapter 1: New House

Sometimes even the best of intentions can turn out the worst of fates. Especially when one messed with unknown forces and the occult. Her Father had simply been a paranormal enthusiast, and that had been the source of her family's downfall.

…...

Vlad eyed the 1950's New England colonial critically. Some of the siding was broken or missing. Easily replaceable, of course. Otherwise the house was in fine condition. According to the paperwork, sent over by Amity Park real estate, the house had been through numerous renovations. The last of which being three years ago.

"Mr. Masters?" Pamela Manson, the real estate agent that was appropriated to assist him in finding a new home, approached him warily. She and Vlad had clashed greatly during the house hunt so far. What with her insisting that a particular house was far superior to any Vlad wished to view. Strangely, while she had been so eager to show him many of the older Victorian and colonial homes, she had been most reluctant to show him this one.

"Yes, this one will do nicely." Decided Vlad.

"You're sure?" Pamela asked, perhaps a touch too quickly. "I mean, you really shouldn't decide on a house based on the exterior alone."

Vlad regarded her, suspicious of what was an obvious ploy to turn his attentions elsewhere. But he relented; extending his arm towards the front door. "Lead the way."

The tour was pretty basic, almost bland. Mrs. Manson wasn't even trying to hide the fact that she was trying to talk the place down. Vlad was hardly convinced. Despite all of the so-called "flaws" the real estate agent pointed out, he was more and more taken with the 52 year old building. High ceilings, hardwood floors, plenty of natural light, updated appliances, even beautiful hand-carved crown-molding.

"... And I'm afraid the electrical system is a little on the..."

"Stop." Pamela quieted without much prompting. A sickeningly sweet smile still on her lips.

"Something wrong, Mr. Masters?" She cooed feigning ignorance.

"Yes actually," Vlad deadpanned. "I've heard enough slander from you about this house.

"But..."

"No buts, this is the house I wish to call home. I'm well aware of the fact that the bank is in possession of this estate. Now, you will gather the necessary paper work and call me once everything has gone through." With that Vlad turned to leave.

"Wait, Mr. Masters!"

"I am _**not**_ changing my mind."

"Sir the reason... I ..." Pamela looked anxious as she tried to think of what to say next. Vlad tapped his foot impatiently. "You REALLY don't want to live here." She finally said, a little bit desperately.

"Why not?"

…...

"Haunted. You really expect me to believe that?"

Pamela fidgeted under the weight of his stare. A behavior not suited to wealthy socialite and successful real estate agent. "No, honestly." She sighed. "I don't even believe me."

Vlad stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. "To tell you the truth Mr. Masters, I love this house, I really do. But with it's... history. I don't think it wise to live here. In 52 years this house has only had a handful of owners. All of them, every last one. They moved out after half a month of owning the house."

"Every one of them? I find that particularly difficult to believe."

"Well, with the exception of the original owners..."

"Yes?"

"I don't really know all the details, but apparently in 1955 there was a murder suicide here in this house. The father went crazy and killed his 14 year old daughter before..."

 _He Did Not!_

"...Hanging himself." An massive electrical surge blew throughout the room as she said the final part.

"What in the world?" Vlad asked.

"I told you, the house has an electrical problem." Pamela said. "Probably the only real problem with the place." She said a little sheepishly. Most likely embarrassed over her earlier behavior. She sighed. "Do you really wish to own this place?"

She seemed almost scared of his answer. As if she truly believed that he would be in danger here. But nevertheless... "Yes, I do."

 **Authors note: Alright first chapter done. What do you guys think so far. Personally, I am really enjoying writing this.**

 **And yes the real estate agent is Sam's mom. I wanted the real estate agent to be an existing character from the show. I figured she would be the best choice.**

 **Anyway I'll see you all in the next chapter.**


	2. Chapter 2: Rumors

**Authors note: Alright here's Chapter 2. I'm gonna try to make this story pretty short. Hopefully between 5 to 10 chapters. We'll see how it goes. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as the first one.**

Chapter 2: Rumors

Her sister had been the first to go. She doesn't remember much of it, but then again, she was so young when it happened.

…...

Rumors tend to buzz through small country towns pretty quickly. Not so much in large cities. Amity Park, however, was neither incredibly small or large. So it was immensely surprising to Vlad that almost everyone in the small city was already fully aware of his purchase of the old Fenton residence.

He had been stopped numerous times today. Being asked questions ranging from "You do know what happened in that house right?", all the way to "Dude, did you see the ghost girl yet?" Ridiculous, every single one of them. Believing in such things. Frankly, it was quite irritating. All Vlad wanted, and the main reason he had moved here from his castle in Wisconsin, was a little privacy and quiet. But it seemed that it would be impossible.

This move was already stressful enough. Alerting the appropriate people of his address change. Sorting through his belongings trying to decide what was necessary to bring to his new home (the house was already fully furnished). Locating the nearest hospital, police station, getting new tags, vehicle registration, license, insurance. It was all exhausting. And it was only the beginning.

He had already had the house inspected. A feat in of itself as most of the local home inspectors refused to set foot on the property. So he had to have one from the next town over come in. The whole inspection had taken Less than half an hour. It was quite unprofessional really. Of course, the residence was in perfect condition except for minor cosmetic updates for the exterior. But really the way that man had bolted out of the house. Just because the door to the basement slammed shut. Easily dismissed as the work of the wind coming through the open bay window in the parlor.

Finally, after a few days of trying to get settled into his new home. All he had left to do, was get an electrician in to look at the electrical. Of course , Vlad ran into the same problem that he did with the house inspector. None of the local workman wanted anything to do with his home. And it was a lot harder to find one from out of town willing to drive all that way.

…...

"So far everything looks pretty normal. Can you show me to the breaker box?"

"Ah yes, it should be in the basement."

 _Please don't go down there._

"You're sure it's nothing to do with the wiring?" Asked Vlad opening the door to the basement.

"Yeah, everything's pretty much up to code. But sometimes just the slightest issue can mess with the whole electrical grid." The man stated. "The problem could be something as simple as a loose or faulty fuse."

"I see." Said Vlad.

It turned out there was absolutely nothing wrong with the breaker or the fuses. "Huh, that's strange." Noted the electrician. Then he laughed. "Maybe that 'ghost girl' is messing with lights ha!" It was meant as a joke but Vlad only groaned. Even people out of town knew about that stupid ghost rumor.

Later that afternoon, Vlad decided to try to relax on the back porch. It was a nice summer day outside. Not too hot with a nice breeze blowing. Vlad grabbed himself a glass of iced tea and a book that he'd been intending to read for a while. He then headed outside.

"Higher Dannie." Though it seemed he wouldn't get too much time to relax with his neighbors only son swinging on the tire swing. His _**only**_ neighbor. Vlad wasn't sure who the boy, Yancy (Vlad believed that was his name), was talking to. They were hidden by the trunk of the old oak tree. It was probably his babysitter. His mother was at work this time of day. She was a single mother, and needed all the help she could get.

Vlad cleared his throat, "Young man." He hasn't meant to sound harsh, but the simple call out seemed to startle the child. Enough that he fell completely off the tire swing, backwards. "Butter-biscuits," Vlad cursed. "Are you alright boy?" He asked as he helped the kid up.

"M' fine." He replied.

Vlad looked around for the person who had been pushing Yancy on the swing, wondering why they hadn't picked him up. Strangely, he didn't see anyone. It was just the two of them in Vlad's yard. "Who were you talking to a minute ago?"

Yancy looked up at Vlad curiously, as if surprised that he needed to ask. "To my friend Dannie."

"Yancy!" Ah there was the babysitter. A black teen with glasses wearing a yellow t-shirt, cargo shorts, and a red beret jogged over. "Sorry about that sir, I was making lunch. I told him to stay in the yard." He then turned to the child. "Yancy, I know you like playing with your imaginary friend here..." imaginary friend? Was that who he was talking to earlier? "But this is his home now." The youth gestured to Vlad. "You can't just come onto this property whenever you want, anymore. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Yancy grumbled. "And don't call me Yancy! My name is Youngblood."

"Alright, alright, I get it. Sorry Youngblood."

The teenager turned back to Vlad. "Sorry again about this Mr...?"

"Vlad Masters," Vlad finished for him. "And it's quite alright. I don't mind him playing on the swing. Provided he asks permission first." Vlad smiled politely at Youngblood.

"Think you can do that, kiddo?" Asked the kid's babysitter.

He nodded, "Yeah Tucker, I can do that." Youngblood then stood up straight. A determined and deviant expression on his face. "But I don't understand why. Dannie already said I could come play whenever I want to."

Vlad chuckled a little at that. "Youngblood," Tucker groaned. "Dannie is not real."

"Yes she is!" The child insisted. "She's lived here since 1941." He said this with such conviction. As if he truly believed everything he just said.

 _ **'Of course he believes it. Children are much more in tune with the supernatural than adults are after all.'**_

A shiver ran up Vlad's spine. He wasn't quite sure where it came from. But he dismissed it as the breeze which had picked up a bit for a moment. "Really," said Vlad humoring the boy. "She's lived here that long?"

"Yeah."

Tucker groaned again. " _Please_ Mr. Masters, don't encourage him. He's really too old to still have an imaginary friend."

"I just said she's _**not**_ imaginary."

Tucker looked like he wanted to argue, but he relented. "Fine, fine, whatever. C'mon your lunch is getting cold. I made your favorite."

"Bacon Mac and cheese?" Youngblood asked hopefully.

"Yep."

Vlad found it immensely adorable that the mere prospect of eating his favorite food for lunch had made Youngblood so excited. Vlad had always loved children. He had hoped to have a family of his own one day. Unfortunately he had never found the opportunity to really meet someone with which to start a family. And now that he was already in his early forties, he very much doubted that he ever would have one.

The two boys started to leave, Youngblood waving bye to Vlad and 'Dannie', who was supposedly standing next to him. Vlad waved back. "Hold on a minute Tucker." Said Youngblood jogging back to where Vlad stood next to the tire swing. "Dannie wants me to tell you something Mr. Masters."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"She says to stay out of the basement."

 **Authors note: I'm going to try, and don't hold me to this, but I'm going to try to at least post one chapter per week. In other words, I'm going to try to post one of the first 5 chapters every Saturday. Might actually post chapter 3 late. I gotta work next Saturday (I'm usually off work on the weekends). Anyway, tell me how your liking the story so far and I'll see you guys next time**


	3. Chapter 3: Imaginary Friend

**Authors note: Ok, things are starting to pick up a little more. Thank you all so much for the reviews. I actually want to go ahead and address a few of them.**

 **Zaqhirix Cheshire - Hope the last chapter answered your question. :D**

 **FlyingDoll4 - Thank you so much, and no I don't consider your last review hate mail. Not everyone likes pompous pep, I get that. You weren't mean about it so it's fine.**

Chapter 3: Imaginary Friend

 _Her mother left shortly after that. That was the first sign things were really getting serious. Maddie never ran from anything. Especially anything paranormal._

…...

Yancy came over many times after that. True to his word, he always knocked on Vlad's back door and asked his permission to play on the tire swing. Apparently, the boy's imaginary friend had told him "even if she had already given her permission, Vlad was the owner now, Yancy should listen to him". Vlad found it rather amusing.

Though one thing Vlad did not find amusing, was how much Youngblood seemed to know about his personal and business life. Sometimes he would come by just to wish Vlad luck with a business meeting or tell him he shouldn't worry about the electrical issues (which honestly didn't happen all that often). Things he really shouldn't know about, but he did. The boy claimed he came by the information courtesy of 'Dannie'.

Vlad easily dismissed his suspicions. Of course, the boys knowledge was perfectly rationalized. There probably wasn't a person in Amity Park that didn't know about the Fenton places electrical problems. And Vlad did have a tendency to work outside on some of the nicer days when Youngblood was playing in his yard. It wasn't too much of a stretch to assume that the boy had overheard him. Yes all perfectly rational.

But one thing he could not rationalize, was how the boy seemed to know about his plans to renovate the basement. (Which was the only room still in its original state.) Vlad was certain he had kept those plans between himself and his personal designer. The plans didn't evolve much. Just that for some reason, one of the previous owners had decided to brick off the back half of the storage room. This had made the room very narrow and from what Vlad could tell, there was no way to get to the other half of the room. This, of course, limited the rooms usefulness and Vlad sought to rectify it.

"But Dannie said not to go down there." Youngblood whined to him him one day. It seemed the idea of disobeying his imaginary friend caused him to be very much distressed.

"I believe Dannie also said that as the new owner of this house, I am entitled to doing as I see fit." Vlad replied smoothly.

"Yeah but..." The child paused.

"'But' what, Youngblood? Finish your sentence." Vlad prompted him gently.

The child chewed on his lower lip for a minute. Concern evident on his face. Finally he conceded to Vlad request. "Dannie says that room is really dangerous."

"Dangerous? Now why would she say something like that?" Vlad pondered.

"She said there's something really bad behind that wall down there." Youngblood did not elaborate on what that 'bad thing' was.

"Could you clarify what that would be Youngblood?" Then, noticing Youngbloods look of confusion, he quickly rephrased his question. "What's the really bad thing down there?"

"I don't know." He said. "Dannie won't tell me."

"Why not."

"She says it's better if I don't know what's down there."

"And why is that?" Asked Vlad hoping for a more precise answer.

The kid looked thoughtful for a moment. He turned his attention to Vlad's right-hand side a pleading look on his small face. Obviously, he didn't know how to answer Vlad's question and was attempting to seek 'help' from his imaginary friend. Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Youngblood turned his attention back to Vlad. The man in question waited patiently for the boy's answer. "Because, whatever's down there, is the reason Dannie's dead."

The hell...?

…...

Slightly troubled by what Youngblood had told him, Vlad decided to discuss it with the boys mother. Ember McClain was a very young mother, having gotten pregnant and given birth at the age of seventeen. The girl had somehow managed to finish high school before starting a career in customer service. In other words, she was a waitress. Though, she made the majority of her money with her band. She was the lead singer of some band called 'Charred Embers', which played every weekend at a local night club. Their music wasn't quite suited to Vlad's tastes, but he couldn't deny that Ember and her band were quite talented.

"He said that did he?" Asked Ember, taking a sip from her glass of lemonade. As it was one of her rare days off, Vlad thought it would be best to invite the mother son duo over for lunch. That way he could discuss yesterday's conversation with Ember while Youngblood played in the yard.

"Yes, he did." Vlad replied. "While I don't necessarily believe in the supernatural, I will admit, hearing a child talk so blatantly about the supposed death of his "imaginary friend" is a little unsettling."

"I don't know about "unsettling", but kids do tend to be very creative. Especially when it comes to imaginary friends."

"True as that may be, I don't think most children have dead imaginary friends." Vlad retorted.

"Touché." The 25 year old woman conceded. "But you don't know my son the way I do. He's always been a, uh what's the word, a little more unusual than other kids." One of Vlad's eyebrows raised, silently encouraging the woman to continue. "I mean, most kids, they usually start having imaginary friends when they're toddlers."

"So?"

"So, Yancy..."

"Don't call me that!" Her son interrupted.

"Hey, it's not my fault your grandma named you that. I was still passed out from labor!" Ember laughed and Youngblood quickly went back to ignoring them. "Now, what was I saying? Oh yeah, so Youngblood didn't really have any imaginary friends growing up. Mostly because we were still living with my mom in an apartment complex. He had plenty of other kids to play with, so there was no need for some imaginary playmate."

"So what changed?" Vlad wondered aloud.

"We moved here." Ember said bluntly. "You know what Vlad?" Vlad hummed curiously in way of answer. "I'm not one for believing in that occultic crap, but I do believe that sometimes... sometimes kids can maybe see things that we can't."

…...

That night, Vlad was awoken, sensing a strange presence in the room with him. Strange, as he had never felt anything like it. It made him uncomfortable, something he hadn't yet felt in his chosen bedroom. In lieu of the master bedroom, Vlad had chosen one of the slightly smaller bedrooms to sleep in. Honestly, it was probably the only one of the bedrooms he felt comfortable sleeping in. With its pale, pale, pale blue walls, mid-tone hardwood floors, all offset with a splash of white. White ceiling, trim, and door.

Quite frankly, it wasn't the presence itself that put Vlad on edge, but the fact that there was any presence at all. Warily, Vlad cracked open one eye and glanced to where he sensed the presence. And there, sitting on the window bench, was a young girl. At least fourteen years of age. She sat there with a serene look on her face as she started out the window. Oblivious to the fact that Vlad had spotted her. She was a rather pretty girl Vlad noticed. Or rather, would have noticed. If it weren't for the fact that he was staring at a see through girl!

Yes truly, she was see through. Vlad could easily see color of the wall and part of the curtain that was behind her. If that wasn't startling enough, there was also obviously a gaping hole through the center of her chest. Or at least he thought there was a hole. It was hard to tell with all the blood...

"Vlad," he jumped. "Go back to sleep." Said the apparition soothingly. Instead Vlad fainted.

 **Authors note: And our ghost girl makes her official appearance!**

 **Also, I'm sorry this chapter is late. Didn't feel like doing anything Saturday after work. Seriously, I mean the manager promised everyone who worked lunch that day a free milkshake. That's how bad it was. Alright, see you guys in chapter 4.**


	4. Chapter 4: No Such Things as Ghosts

**Authors note: Ok, I'm really sorry that this chapter is late. I have a good reason this time though. Our cable went out. Which meant no tv, no home phone, and definitely NO internet. All weekend! That's why it's being posted up this Saturday instead of the last one like it should have been. Anyway...**

 **"Oh Annnnnime!"**

 ***Groans* "Go away, Gore."**

 **Gore the plot bunny: "Hey, no being mean. That's my job. And may I point out, you haven't spoken to me at all since you started this dumb story."**

 **"It's not dumb! And I'm trying to take it seriously. Now go away! Go hang out at Darth's place for a while. Gore no!"**

 **Sorry, guys. I hope you enjoy chapter 4. I'm gonna go try to get rid of this little shit. "Gore, drop the sketchbook!"**

Chapter 4: No Such Things as Ghosts

 _Madeline Fenton was never a person that spooks easily. She tended to embrace her husband's bizarre interest in the supernatural. Admittedly, she was fascinated herself, by the science of it. However, the death of her first born child, was enough to frighten even her. She refused to have anything to do the paranormal after that._

…...

Vlad vehemently denied ever seeing anything last night. He absolutely DID NOT see a ghost. No, no, no, no certainly not. So, putting the incident out of mind, Vlad continued with his everyday routine. First breakfast, self-prepared with everything containing the necessary nutrients. Then some morning exercise in one of the larger spare rooms that he'd made into a home gym. Quickly followed by a shower and the brushing of his teeth.

That afternoon his personal designer, Dorathea, a Dutch immigrant (her parents moved to the U.S. when she was a couple of months old) had come over. He'd invited her over to further discuss what to do with the basement renovations. He decided to do it that day specifically so that Youngblood couldn't attempt to sabotage the meeting. Which he was sure to do, the boy was extremely dedicated to keeping his imaginary friend happy. But Tucker had taken the boy to see a movie, Surf's up, that day.

"Never thought I'd see the day Vlad Masters would be intimidated by a child."

"I am not intimidated by him." Vlad said defensively. "I simply wish to avoid the trouble. The boys a sweet kid, but this devotion he has to a figment of his imagination is quite an inconvenience to me."

"Now Vladimir, saying something like that, one would think that you despise children." Dorathea tutted.

"I adore children, you know that Dora."

Dorathea laughed good naturally, a pretty little thing. One could almost wonder why Vlad hadn't fallen for this woman a long time ago. The answer, of course, being that the woman was not interested in men and Vlad respected that. "I know, I know. I was only joking Vlad." She gave him a little friendly punch to the arm as she said this. "Now, Why don't we have a look at that room in the basement?"

Content with the change of subject, Vlad gladly led her through the parlor to the basement door. "Ladies first," he said opening the door for her like a gentleman. The interior designer had barely moved when the door slammed shut of its own accord. "What the...?" Vlad opened the door again, only to have it slam in his face once more. The wind perhaps? No, no he couldn't blame it on the wind that day. Besides all the Windows were closed, attributed to the steady rainfall outside.

Vlad hummed, "That's strange."

"I agree," said Dorathea. "What do you suppose caused that?"

"I am unsure, perhaps it's a loose hinge." Getting an idea he asked. "Perhaps we can see about getting it replaced?"

Dorathea nodded "I'll add it to the basement renovation budget." She quickly jotted down some notes in a dragon shaped notebook that she always carried with her. Vlad had asked her about it, he was told that dragons were one of her favorite fantasy creatures.

Vlad smiled his thanks, then opened the door once more. This time managing to get his in between the door and the doorjamb just before it slammed. He led the way down the creaking staircase. "It's just through that door," Vlad said gesturing to the open doorway beneath the basement stairs. Dorathea went over to inspect the room. She only just managed to avoid running face first into the door as it, like the other one, slammed shut suddenly. Only this time, the door did not only shut, it locked.

Vlad spent the better part of two hours trying, and failing, to unlock the storage room door. Eventually though, it became apparent that the door would not be opening anytime soon. And, as Dora had other clients to meet with that day and couldn't waste anymore time there, they decided to postpone their pre-reno inspection. After she left Vlad called Pamela Manson. He'd hoped that she might have a skeleton key of sorts. Luck was not on his side. Pamela had given him all the keys to the house and supposedly there wasn't even a lock on the storage room door. Perhaps it'd gotten stuck?

In the end he decided to call a locksmith to take a look at it. Luckily, Vlad didn't have to endure a repeat of the home inspector and electrician incident. It turned out to be surprisingly easy to find a locksmith to come check out the door. "It's down here." Vlad said leading the man downstairs.

"So, you said that you accidentally slammed the door too hard and it's locked itself?"

"That's corre-..." Vlad's sentence trailed off. The door was open.

…...

As the week progressed, Vlad began to notice very strange things happening in his home. Easily dismissible at first. Things like his keys not being where he remembered leaving them, strange noises at night, catching slight movement just outside his peripheral vision. It wasn't exactly hard to find excuses for them. Keys were easily misplaced, old houses (no matter how many renovations) tend to make noise, he must have imagined the movement ;or at the very least, his eyes were playing tricks on him.

However, there were some things even he couldn't explain away. Not logically speaking anyway. One Monday evening, for example, Vlad had fallen asleep watching the news. He had soon awoken to the sound of the tv flipping through the different channels only to finally land on some documentary or another. His first instinct had been to check that he wasn't sitting on the remote. But no, the remote control was setting safely on the end table a few feet away.

His second thought was that maybe the television was acting up. No, that couldn't have been it. The tv was a brand new LCD after all. He'd decided, finally, that he was just tired. It'd been a long day. Vlad grabbed the remote from the table and switched it off.

As he went to get off the couch, he caught a glimpse of the room reflected on the tv screen. Something in particular caught his eye; a figure standing right behind him. The very same figure that he had seen in his bedroom staring out the window. Quickly, Vlad turned in his seat looking behind him. Nothing. He looked back to the tv. Not there, she was gone.

Rubbing his eyes, Vlad decided he must've been more tired than he originally thought. His eyes really were playing tricks on him. He put the remote back on the table and shut the light out before retiring to bed upstairs.

Another time, after grocery shopping, Vlad discovered an old expired can of greens. He'd attempted to toss it but the can was on the top shelf, just out of reach. Vlad turned to grab one of the kitchen chairs. When he looked back, the can was sitting on the counter. And once again he caught a glimpse of the girl in a reflected (this time in the stainless steel toaster) surface.

It seemed he would be seeing her more frequently. Usually after a strangely helpful, if not at all possible, event occurred. Guess you could say, the apparition was Vlad's little helper. As such, Vlad no longer tried to deny her presence in his home. Though, neither did he admit to his house being haunted. No, when Vlad thought off haunted houses it called up images of pentagrams, Ouija boards, and stuff from scenes in movies like 'The Amityville Horror'.

Vlad certainly never experienced anything of the sort. And the girls presence was hardly threatening. As such, it didn't take long for Vlad to grow used to her being there. He had even taken to calling the girl 'Dannie'. Which pleased young Youngblood immensely (as he thought Vlad was acknowledging the existence of his imaginary friend). Not true, it was just easier for Vlad to call her that; the boy didn't need to know that though.

However, the peaceful days would not last long. Towards the end of the month, Vlad began to notice that the bizarre activity was escalating slightly. At first it was simply a series of banging noises coming from the storage room in the basement. They would start at midnight and finally finish at around three in the morning. Always in a set of three bangs every five minutes.

It had started out quietly enough. As long as Vlad closed the three doors (storage, basement, bedroom) between him and the noise, he could sleep peacefully through the night. But before long, they began to get louder. Even Ember could hear them from next door.

"This is getting ridiculous Vlad." Ember complained one night when Vlad invited mother and son over for dinner. "I mean, my room is all the the way on the opposite side of the house. And I can still hear that banging as if I'm in the same room."

"I know, Ember," Vlad related, sighing.

"Have you found out what's causing it yet?" The woman asked exasperated.

"No, I haven't." Vlad couldn't even rationalize it. There was absolutely no reason for the noise to even be there in the first place.

"Could an animal have gotten in somehow?" Ember offered.

"I suppose it's possible."

Dude seriously? What kind of animal bangs on a wall like that?

"Well, I hope you get it sorted out soon. I need some sleep. And from the look of those bags under your eyes; I'd say you need some too."

That, Vlad conceded, was true. Since the banging had gotten louder, he was finding it more and more difficult to get any sleep. His work was already suffering from it. Luckily for him his secretary was more than capable of handling things without him.

…...

Shortly after that, the banging came to a complete stop. While Vlad was grateful to finally be able to get some much needed sleep, he had a lingering suspicion that something far worse was coming. And he would be proven right. Fourth of July, Vlad had been helping Ember, Tucker and Youngblood set off some fireworks. Nothing big, Ember had bought most of them and she couldn't afford much. Fireworks were pretty expensive after all.

Vlad had excused himself; saying he needed to use the restroom. Really though, he was going to retrieve a few fireworks he had bought. Not many, but he thought it might be nice to surprise Youngblood with a few really big fireworks (one of which would make a smiley face when it exploded) and some lanterns. Upon entering the house, one of the paintings (an original copy of Van Gogh's Starry night) shot horizontally off the wall towards his head. Vlad had only managed to duck his head in time.

"Mother of-" What the he'll was Dannie doing? She never did anything like that. Vlad searched the room looking in the Windows, the glass vase, anything that had a reflective surface that he would see Dannie in. She wasn't there. She always appeared after something happened. Something was definitely wrong. Vlad decided it was time to inquiry into the houses history.

Naturally, his first stop was the hall of records. At first though he had only been able to find renovation records. Strangely, the renovations to the storage room were undocumented. Though, Vlad deduced that someone did that without the cities knowledge, so it didn't matter. It took some digging, but eventually Vlad was able to find quite a few more things. Mostly records of the previous owners which turned out to be only five; counting the original owners.

He started with the owners most recent. The most recent being a small group of college age girls that bought the house together while attending Amity Park community college. According to the paperwork they barely stayed there a month. Understandable, the house was meant for the upper class. So Vlad figured, that even with so many different people splitting the bills, it was too expensive for them to continue living in the house.

On to the next, about four years prior to the college girls purchase of the home, it was procured by a real estate with the intent of flipping the property for a profit. The flip essentially flopped. Mostly in part due to the rumors of the house being haunted. The agent lost his money and moved on to try his luck with a different place. Before him, nearly two decades, a wealthy newlywed couple had lived there. They stayed two - almost three- months.

Vlad went back even further and found that before the couple - in the late 1970's - a small family of five had called the Fenton house home. A surgeon, his wife, and their three children. So far it seemed that they had owned the house the longest. Five - practically six- months. Oddly enough, it was their teenage daughter that had moved out first. It was odd because, according to the records, she had only been fifteen at the time.

Finally, Vlad came to the file of owners he was most interested to learn about: the Fentons. The file on them was substantially thicker than the others. Upon opening the file, Vlad found out why. The Fentons had not only lived in the house - for more than fifteen years mind you - they had built the home.

The bulk of the folder was taken up by zoning permits, construction bills, inspection papers, etc. Setting that aside, Vlad began to look at the family themselves. The Feelings were a small family of four it seemed. Mom, dad, and two daughters. The parents, Maddie and Jack Fenton, were scientists of some sort; there were quite a bit of interesting blueprints in the the file. Some looked a little more advanced for the time period. But that really wasn't what Vlad was looking for.

Vlad then took a look at the children. Their oldest daughter - a young child named Jasmine - unfortunately, had passed away at the age of eight. There was no real information about her death. Just the funeral. Vlad continued to shuffle through the remaining paperwork looking for info on the last member of the Fenton family. So far none of the Intel he had gathered provided him any insight on the strange things happening in his home.

Then he found it. An obituary. For the final Fenton family member: DANNIE. Heading the obituary, was a small black and white image of a young girl. No more than fourteen years of age. The very same girl he had been seeing in his house for a little over a month.

"Butterbiscuits." His home really was haunted wasn't it?

 **Authors note: Eh, chapter 5 will probably be a late update. Nothing really going on, just me being lazy as usual. But anyway we're starting to get to the good stuff. I'm still trying to decide what Dp character I should use to be the paranormal investigator/ demonologist. I'm leaning more towards Desiree but I'm still unsure. What do you guys think?**

 **Gore the plot bunny: "Why don't you just ask me?"**

" **Gore, go away already!"**


End file.
